


Keep the Madness at Bay

by Beautiful_Doom



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Auras, Madness, Strange Dreams, Wilford learns the truth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Doom/pseuds/Beautiful_Doom
Summary: Wilford has been having strange dreams about being someone he isn't. Now, this Colonel character seemed to have some truly exciting adventures, but he's a little bland for Wilford's taste. Thank goodness it's all just a dream.Right?





	Keep the Madness at Bay

It was a strange thing to hear Wilford yawn.

Especially when he wasn’t doing it sarcastically.

But he had done it twice in the last five minutes, and Dark was concerned. Wilford even looked tired, not at all his peppy energetic self. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair drooped, and his bright pink aura was curled up close to him, rippling sluggishly.

“Wilford...” Dark narrowed his eyes at the other. “Are you ok? You look awful. Have you come down some sort of sickness?”

“Hmm?” Wilford gave a lazy smile as he turned to look at Dark. “Well, I’m fit as a fiddle being played by a smiling tabby cat. I feel just fine! I’ve been getting my daily recommended three hours of sleep at night and my four square meals as well. Though I much prefer round meals...”

“You’re supposed to get at least eight hours of sleep at night,” Dark said, looking closer at his friend.

Wilford tilted his head this way and that as he mumbled to himself. 

“Eight hours? How boring. Sleep is boring. But then what was the three...? Oh yes! Daily recommended cups of strawberry milk is three. How could I forget?” He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “My mind is spaghetti now. A twist and mess of delicious noodles...”

“Wilford,” Dark walked closer. “Focus. Why aren’t you sleeping as much as you should be?” Normally, he wouldn’t care about the sleeping habits of the other egos, but this was affecting Wilford greatly, and he wasn’t about to let his friend suffer.

“Sleep is boring now,” Wilford sighed. “My dreams used to be filled with candy mountains and unicorns and organ harvesting, but now it’s... my dreams are boring. I dream of a man who seems to be me, but isn’t me. And he has a name that feels like mine, but that’s just silly. We only have one name, right?” He laughed as if he had told a joke, lightly slapping Dark’s shoulder. “And who would want a silly name like William, huh?”

There was a loud crack that came from Dark as his eyes widened. The red and blue of his aura began to warp and twist until it seemed at war with itself. Dark was simply stuck in the middle of them as he stared at Wilford.

Wilford raised an eyebrow at Dark’s expression and chuckled.

“Dark, dearie... you look as if you’ve seen a ghost. I don’t know why you’re so worked up. This William chap can be fun at times, but he was so bland. No color at all. Though he did try his hardest. He had a real thirst for life, and I can respect that, and- Dark, are you ok?”

Dark had sunk down into a nearby chair, still looking frozen as his aura colors thrashed and mixed and separated over and over. A high pitch ringing was slowly growing in volume, and he couldn’t speak.

“Dark?” Wilford shook Dark’s shoulder. “Dark, dearie? They’re just dreams! Why get so worked up over some silly dreams? Silly little boring dreams about hunting wildlife and getting married and having a party with your friends in a manor somewhere, and-”

He choked on his words. Actually choked. His throat closed up, and a wave of nausea washed over him. The manor. The party. A poker game. That dream... why was it affecting him like this?

A wave of pain washed over his head and spread through it as if dancing across cracks and gaps. He put a hand over his mouth and gagged, feeling as if he were about to be sick. He shakily turned to look at Darkilplier, and it was as if he could see clearly after being blind for so long.

He recognized him.

“You...” he said softly. “You were there. At the party. You...” He took a hasty breath and let out a nervous chuckle. “No, that’s impossible! They’re just dreams. Just dreams, right?” It sounded rhetorical, but his frenzy grew when Darkiplier stayed silent. “R-right? Right?! RIGHT?!”

He lunged forward, grabbing at Dark’s hands, seeing reassurance. His smile was stiff and manic, gritting his teeth. He looked into Dark’s eyes and shook him.

“Will...” Dark said softly. “... William. I’m sorry...” He looked devastated.

Wilford sunk back on the floor as if he had lost all the strength he had. His aura surged out of fear, lashing out at the room around them before swallowing the whole thing in a pink haze. 

Darkiplier was now standing in front of him, unsure of what to do or say. He had never thought Wilford would ever remember what had happened. 

Wilford got to his feet, trembling and shaking in fear and despair.

“I... I killed you,” he said softly. “I shot you, and you fell, and... and I was...” Tears rolled down his eyes as he reached out to grasp at Dark’s jacket. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! It was an accident, I swear! I... I’m so sorry...”

“Will...”

“You fell and I was so scared,” Wilford continued. “I didn’t know what to do. I went running for anyone to help, but everyone had left. Even... even Damien had left. I tried to save you, I... I tried to revive you...” he sobbed into against the fabric of Dark’s jacket. “I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to.”

“William...” no sense in calling him Wilford now. “I forgave you long ago. I know it wasn’t your fault. I know you didn’t mean to. The house was affecting us all, making us do things we’d never normally do. I should have taken you and left when I could, but we were fighting and there was so much happening, and then I couldn’t find you until Celine showed up-”

“W-what?”

Wilford pulled back slowly, looking at Dark in confusion. Dark’s aura cracked again, and suddenly his outline became bluish, and his face and hair changed into a prim and proper look that Wilford recognized.

The other man yelped and jumped back. 

“DAMIEN?!”

His aura flashed, another crack shattering across his already broken mind. Could it be? Was it really Damien? How could he have forgotten his best friend? How could he have not looked for him after what had happened? In fact...

What had even happened after the manor?

His mind tried to bridge the gaps, but it was impossible. Too much had been warped or forgotten. But what else was he forgetting? What else had he lost?

“Will-”

What else was hidden away from him by his own madness?

“Will!”

Who else had he murdered? HOW COULD HE HAVE EVER FORGOTTEN THAT PEOPLE DIE?!

“William!”

But it was too late. Black vines sprouted from beneath Wilford and pulled him under into the dark abyss of his own mind. Everything went silent, but he could see Dark calling to him, reaching out and trying to grab him.

But then there was nothing but the abyss.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I watch Who Killed Markiplier and Damien in the same day. Please comment if you want more, and let me know what you think.


End file.
